sally bowles junior

I promised myself I was going to sell these pieces. I had them all measured and sorted to list on Etsy – really, I did. But then I took one look at myself and decided this outfit told too much of a story to sell right away. I had to preen just a little first.

Somewhere inside myself, not-so-deep under my skin, I am a cabaret star steaming up the sordid stages of Paris or Vegas or Berlin. My ankles resist any attempt at fancy footwork, and I have too many tics for proper grace. But damned if I don’t have the presence. Stationary art is still art, right?

But once in a while I costume myself right and proper and I get to be more than just some girl who’s seen Moulin Rouge way too many times. Sometimes a certain outfit, or necklace or location or even just an angle, will spawn a character whose story needs to be told immediately. And I slip into her guise and hop along for the ride.

I love that this setting is simultaneously grand and humble. This character seems in the vein of the 1930s shoot I did with Brent back in March: frustrated by circumstance but too itchy for beauty not to make the best of what she has. You focus for a few seconds and see only the tile and how it plays off the black and white. And then you zoom out and see ashes.